One Man Army
by arkkitehti
Summary: The war has reached a stalemate, and now it's up to one man to finish it up
1. Here I Stand

/Standard disclaimers apply

A/N: Warning: the depiction of the final battle in the third chapter is somewhat gory, but I didn't feel that it alone warranted M-rating for the story.

One Man Army

Chapter 1: Here I Stand

Harry Potter was standing in front of a door. He had managed to sneak in to the building using his invisibility cloak, and behind that closed door the Annual General Assembly of Voldemort's Dark Army was in progress.

The Death Eater they had managed to capture and interrogate earlier had provided Harry with some intelligence about the probable layout of the room, and Harry had planned his assault strategy accordingly. There should be a relatively large open space at the back of the room, with heavy tables filled with sandwiches, pastries, pies and refreshments that could be turned over for cover. The Death Eaters should be sitting with their backs to the door, with the Inner Circle at the front and then progressively greener troops towards the back. That should work in favour of Harry, as the best fighters they had would be further away, and behind their own people. They wouldn't probably care too much about friendly fire and would be throwing curses over their younger comrades without showing much remorse on the occasional unlucky one that would get hit by one, but that was okay with Harry.

The strategy Harry had devised for the battle was a simple and straight forward one: first, blast through the door. Second, fire a few blasting hexes at the attending crowd. Third, dive for cover, and then start moving them bastards down with more energy efficient piercing curses. There were a lot of bastards to move down, and although Harry was a very powerful wizard, there was no point in wasting energy with some flashy spell work. And Harry had always been better with simple power-to-purpose magic, all the swishes and flicks needed for more delicate work were beyond Harry's temperamental nature. Also, in this operation timing was crucial. He didn't have one minute to waste. Thus; hit them fast, hit them hard.

Harry had spent a lot of time on the firing range back at their hideout, and could fire his piercing curses with devastating speed and accuracy. They flew fast and true, and the extremely sharp, dull grey spell signature was almost impossible to see, at least when it was coming straight to ones face. Nothing like the swirling and flashing green of the killing curse, and a small hole through the forehead killed the enemy equally quickly without the overly long incantation or wasteful invoking of soul magics. And anyway, Harry had never been able to feel the necessary contempt for human life to cast the Avada Kedavra properly. And yes, he had tried.

Harry took a few deep breaths and fingered the device hanging on his neck. The whole outcome of this battle rested on the device working properly. The theory behind was a sound one (at least as far as Harry had understood Hermione's explanations, that is, about one tenth of the way), but they hadn't been able to test it properly. But even then there would be Fate, the eternal pain in Harry's ass, playing her games. Hermione was sure that the prophecy meant The Magic was on his side, but Harry wasn't so sure. If magic really wanted Harry to fulfil the prophecy, surely it would have ensured that the rebounding killing curse had actually done it's job that night almost twenty years earlier, wouldn't it? Some kind of amplification effect when countered by the sacrifice of a loving mother could surely be used to sever any connections to horcruxes, right?

If everything went with the plan, this would be a massacre. It wouldn't be the first one in this war, but hopefully it would be the last one. Or, if the plan failed, he would be dead. Probably very quickly. But at least there weren't other people around to get themselves killed in this one.

With a final sigh Harry drew his holly and phoenix feather wand from its holster that was strapped at his arm, concentrated on the desired effect and threw his strongest blasting curse at the door. At the same time as the spell connected with the door, he flipped a switch on the device, already running towards the hole that would be all that would be left of the door.

The Battle had begun.


	2. Preparations

One Man Army

Chapter 2: Preparations

"Damn them all to hell!", Harry swore as he tossed his cloak to a corner the safe-house he and Hermione were using at the moment. "Why can't the Death Eaters just give up, and why can't the Aurors actually be any good at what they are doing?"

There had been another Death Eater raid at Hogsmeade. The town had suffered some property damage, but the Death Eaters had retreated almost as soon as the Order had arrived to the scene. And at this point of the war their response time was rather impressive fifty seven seconds after the lookout guard had sent his patronus message to raise alarm.

After four years of fighting, the war had reached a strange stalemate. The first year after the death of Albus Dumbledore at the hands of the traitor Severus Snape (although majority of the Order members didn't think that Snape was a traitor, they had never considered him to be on their side in the first place) had been a bloody one. There had been major losses on both sides of the front. First Voldemort's Dark Army had overrun the ministry building and claimed the ministry for himself. The name of the opposition, The Order, was from that era: it was an amalgamation of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, the group of Harry's friends that had called themselves Dumbledore's Army and the Aurors who didn't recognize Voldemort's usurper government. As they didn't have any phoenixes after Fawkes had vanished with the death of Dumbledore, and as Dumbledore's Army was also pretty meaningless as a name without Dumbledore (and his brother Aberfort wasn't really the type to have his own army), and as Voldemort was using the name Aurors for his "governments" enforcers, the name 'The Order' was adopted for use. When one of the muggleborn members mentioned a fictional muggle terrorist organization named KAOS, the name stuck.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was the leader of the Order, and he represented the administrative side of the Ministry of Magic single handedly. Although there weren't that much to administer. The department of Magical games and Sports had been the first to fall, even before Voldemort's capture of the ministry, as the Qudditch league had aborted their season after an attack at the Puddlemere United home stadium that had claimed the lives of both teams that were in the air and twenty seven spectators before the aurors managed to force the attackers to retreat. Most of British Quidditch players had escaped to the continent, and the manager of the Chudley Cannons had claimed the English league cup by forfeit. Nobody was present at the celebration.

Departments of International Cooperation, Magical Transportation, and of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes as well as Department of Mysteries had fell completely after the Order had managed to capture back the ministry building. In the process many of the magical sensor used for monitoring magic and magical transportation had been damaged beyond repair, in addition to the Floo Network Control Matrix and the building itself. The Order had salvaged everything they could from the ministry building to a new, secret location, but it wasn't enough to operate the ministry in any meaningful extent other than the Auror organization focused on fighting the war against Voldemort.

The British delegation was still working in exile at the ICW headquarters in Geneva, and ICW wizards had infiltrated British muggle emergency response systems and media, in order to control flow of information and obliviate anyone who might have seen magic in work. Other aspects of the war had been deemed an internal affair by the ICW, and no help was offered.

Harry was unofficially the second in charge of the Order, ever after the first part of the prophecy had been published by Voldemort. Harry didn't have any official position at the Order, but he was considered to be maybe the best fighter, and many of the members, at least those that came with the DA, were fiercely loyal to Harry alone.

For Harry the hardest loss in the war had probably been the death of the Weasley family. Ron, Ginny, Percy, Arthur and Molly Weasley perished while defending the Burrow against Death Eaters shortly after the fall of the ministry. Bill and Fleur were living at their own home with their two year old daughter Lucie, named after a famous member of the French Resistance. Bill had warded their home to hell and back, and as he was still working with the goblins, he had been able to claim protection of the Goblin Nation, that was at least officially still neutral. Charlie had remained in Romania and was working with his beloved Dragons. Fred and George's sense of humour had taken a definitive turn to the darker side after the death of their family, and they focused their skills towards creating every kind of nasty and nastier traps for Death Eaters.

It was partially because of the twins' work that the Order had miraculously managed to keep hold of the Diagon Alley, and had even managed to clean up the Knocturn Alley. Although the latter had suffered extensive damage during the Order assault, with over seventy percent of the buildings damaged beyond repair as some of the less stable contraband items had ignited and caused a blazing inferno that had consumed most of the alley, along with its inhabitants that were trapped in anti apparition and anti portkey wards.

After the excitement of the early years the war had stabilized in a phase were both sides were hiding behind extensive wards, and both sides were too afraid of casualties to engage in a decisive battle. The last major battle had been fought at Hogwarts right after Harry's seventh year was supposed to start. It had been a victory for the Order, but the Headmistress McGonagall had been most displeased of the occurrence and had placed the school at complete lock-down. After that the castle had served as a refuge center, with McGonagall refusing to open it for use as a military base of any kind.

"You know", said Hermione, who came in right behind Harry, "with you, Kingsley and Voldemort at the leadership roles, there's no hope of this war coming to an end without one side winning a decisive victory over another. You're all too stubborn to give up.

"And with Voldemort being as afraid or smart as he is after learning that his horcruxes are no more, and with the possibility of ever creating more gone with his first 'death' at your hands, he won't ever come out without a force so big, that attacking it would cause too many casualties on both sides", she continued.

"I know, I know", said Harry, still annoyed at the situation. "It's just the bloody prophecy that's hanging over me. The war is not going to end either way before the final showdown of me versus him, but that's not going to happen as long as the situation is as it is."

Hermione nodded, and sighed. Harry was so focused on the final encounter. He had trained for it almost non-stop the last few years, and had lead the Order forces to fight more times she cared to remember. And she had been on his side the whole time, going as far as sending her parents to hide in Australia, so that they couldn't be used against her and thus against Harry. She had stood by Harry as they had been too late to arrive at the smoking ruins of Burrow, she had stood by Harry as the army of Death Eaters broke themselves to the walls of Hogwarts, even with a contingent of Slytherin students working for them inside the castle. She wanted the war to end as much as Harry did, but still she couldn't bring herself to hope for the 'final showdown', as Harry put it, to come any time soon.

"You know what, 'Mione, I'm sorely tempted to go charging in to the Death Eater Headquarters and end my role in this war one way or other!"

"Harry! Don't even think about anything like that!", said Hermione, shaken by the vehemence of Harry's voice. "You're only one man, you can't go against all of the Death Eaters, no matter how good you are."

"I know, I'm just bloody tired of this war going and going on, with no end in sight. And you are right, I'm too stubborn to give up. And it's not like I have anything to give up for. Everyone I've ever felt to be family have been taken from me". Harry grew suddenly silent after that final comment, and glanced at Hermione. She was looking away, and didn't notice the look.

"I'll go shower and then to bed" Harry said quietly. "Good night, 'Mione."

-o-

That night Hermione couldn't make herself sleep. She was thinking of Harry, and how Harry had always been there for her, and how she had always been there for Harry. And of what Harry had said earlier, and how wrong it had felt for her, and how even Harry seemed to have felt the wrongness of it, or at least she hoped so. Even though he hadn't said anything afterwards, only disappeared to bed.

Hermione thought about what Harry had said about how ending the war rested on his shoulders, about how the only way to initiate the final showdown between Voldemort and Harry was for Harry to go to Voldemort, even though that meant for Harry to go through the whole Dark Army alone. She had to admit that he was right, in a sense. They could and would never convince the Order to mount a full frontal assault against Voldemort's stronghold, there would be all too many casualties. And Voldemort would never engage in decisive battle for the same reason, in addition to which he was too afraid of Harry, who was gaining strength while the magical construct that Voldemort called body had it's limitations as powerful as he was.

Hermione thought of all the times she and Harry had been in mortal danger together. The last four years had had their share of danger, that's true, but never had the situation been truly terrible, as there had always been a lot of people on their side doing their part of the fighting. When they had been searching for the horcruxes they had been mostly by themselves, but that hadn't been too bad either, as they had quickly learned that the connection Harry had with Voldemort allowed him to pass through Voldemort's wards with no problems. When they had found out about that ability, she had been hit with a nasty curse from a trap Voldemort had devised, as Harry had simply waltzed past the triggers, but even that hadn't been too bad, as Harry had been able to apparate her to safety after grabbing the horcrux before any serious complications had had time to emerge.

No, the truly terrifying moments Harry and Hermione had shared together had been during their time at Hogwarts. Their first year, when Harry had stormed the toilet where she had already accepted that she was dead and assaulted the mountain troll armed with no knowledge of combat magic and only his courage. That had been the first time Harry had truly came into her life. And what a way had that been! It had also been in their first year when Hermione had first gathered the courage to properly hug Harry, right before he went to his first 'showdown' with Voldemort, or professor Quirrell possessed by him.

Or second year, when she had almost died because of the Basilisk. Although Harry had been forced to face the snake alone, as Hermione had been petrified just after piecing the puzzle together. Even then, Hermione was pretty proud of herself for devising the method of prevent one from getting killed by using a mirror to look around corners.

Or third year, when she and Harry had went back in time, and Harry had been able to conjure a corporeal Patronus at the age of thirteen and save her, Ron's, Sirius', Snape's and Harry's souls.

Hermione opened her eyes suddenly.

'Harry... saving the life of... Harry! It couldn't possibly work, could it?' She thought. 'The theory says it shouldn't be possible, but how then was Harry able to do it back in school? But it was about accidentally killing oneself, or doing something equally stupid because of shock, not an actual limitation, wasn't it?' Hermione got up from her bed and lit the lights with her wand. 'Now where is that book I got back then... And do we have the necessary equipment? Harry will know about that...'

"Harry!", she called out loud, excited, while going through her bookshelf that was filled with books and covering the longest wall of her room. "Harry, wake up! Ah, there it is..."

Hermione walked straight in Harry's room, not reminding that she was dressed only in one of Harry's old t-shirts that she had stolen from him earlier, and knickers, or that Harry had a habit of sleeping completely nude and had only just managed to rise up sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Harry, what were we..." Hermione managed to get out before Harry interrupted her with a shout.

"'Mione! Don't just come in like that!", he said, hastily gathering the blankets on his lap.

"What?, I was just... Oh."

Hermione took in the situation, and decided that the only way to avoid the awkward silence that was threatening to materialize itself was to go forward. "Well, before you so rudely interrupted me, I was just going to ask if you remembered what exactly we were able to salvage from the Department of Mysteries."

Now that Harry had had some time to gather his wits and properly wake up, he was able to see some of the humour in the situation. "And was that the only reason you came in here practically without clothes?" He asked, smirking.

"Honestly, Harry!" she said, now noticing also the state of her own dress. Or undress. "Well, yes, yes it was."

"Oh, well, I think we go a bit of everything. The department was pretty banged up after our little expedition there on our fifth year, it took further damage when Voldemort assaulted the building and then even more when we took it back. There was nothing of any strategic value, but I believe we have enough that not much of any of the actual research has been lost. The prophecies are gone for good, though, as they can be removed only by the prophesied ones and we were forced to abandon the building. Good riddance, if you ask me!"

Harry looked at Hermione questioningly "What are you planning? I know that look of yours."

"Oh, it's nothing. It's just a thought I had. I'll have to double check the theory, anyway."

With that Hermione turned around and left the room, probably to do more research on the subject and to check her facts. Harry smiled as he laid himself back down on his bed. Hermione in research mode was a force of nature, that couldn't be stopped. He would learn later what exactly she was doing.

-o-

The next morning Hermione was up early, even though she hadn't slept much after browsing through the book she had gotten all the way back in her third year. Even though there were warnings about meeting yourself when travelling to the past, there didn't seem to be anything that would actually go horribly wrong just because you went back. And somehow Hermione had a feeling that you couldn't cause a paradox even if you wanted to: the magic seemed to make sure that everything happened the way it should happen, even though she wouldn't want to be around to see what would happen if one actively tried to cause a paradox.

All in all the whole thing was against her carefully constructed world view: the thought that some kind of 'higher force' was controlling all her doings, at least as far as time turners were concerned, was a highly disturbing one. But that was the only conclusion Hermione could make from the theory and her own experience.

Or maybe it was just Harry defying the laws of magic. Wouldn't be the first time...

Anyway, after a quick breakfast Hermione had left to see if the Unspeakables could provide with the practical side of her plan, leaving a note to Harry next to a plate of toast explaining her absence.

-o-

Hermione and the fact that she was working closely with Harry was well known in the Order. Thus no one asked too many questions as she had marched determinately in the more secret areas of the Orders headquarters. After a short while of asking for directions and waiting for right people to show her forwards, Hermione was sitting in a meeting room with an Unspeakable sitting across the table and a time turner laying in between them.

"How much one can use a time turner? Is there a limit how many times you can turn one?" she asked the Unspeakable, who had brought the device from the "Warehouse of Mysteries", as the building that was housing what was left of the once great department was called among those Order members that knew of its existence.

"Well, theoretically, it depends on the size of the device" the Unspeakable explained, "but anything larger than four hours and it begins to get unstable. We once made one with theoretical capacity of ten hours, but the test subject simply disappeared. Another one, one that was built to go for eight hours, worked almost correctly, but there was random deviation from seven and a half to eight and one quarter hours."

"What about one that could be used repeatedly for smaller jumps, say thirty minutes at a time? Is it still as unstable?", Hermione narrowed down her question.

"As far as I can tell, the device becomes the more unstable the more time sand it contains. So the eight hour device would still show some random deviation even on smaller jumps."

Hermione was starting to feel a bit defeated. Her plan required a time turner that could be used repeatedly with absolute accuracy, down to a second. And on her current plans it would need be able to work for at least total ten hours. And now this man was saying it was impossible! Suddenly a thought made itself known to Hermione.

"How about somehow charging the device before the next jump? They do charge up, don't they?" she continued her questioning.

"Yes, of course they do charge up. But they are using ambient magic for it. Even in a place like Hogwarts with tons of ambient magic it would take at least eight hours to fully recharge a four hour device", the Unspeakable explained.

Now this was sounding almost feasible. A battlefield full of Death Eaters would be positively glowing with ambient magic. A Hogwarts level of ambiance was definitely a possibility. Hermione was doing some quick math in her head. It would be a close call, and they would need to walk right on the line of instability, but it should work. Hermione was biting her lower lip as she was considering from which points she could shave a few more minutes for Harry.

"What I need is a device with absolute precision. That's the most important part. It should work for repeated, short, twenty to thirty minute jumps with deviation of at most one second. How much time can you give me for that?" Hermione pressed the Unspeakable.

"Ah, well, now that's the problem. I only have this one functional turner, and I can guarantee that this one was never built for accuracy greater than at most a few minutes per hour." The Unspeakable didn't notice how Hermiones expression fell at this.

"If we were talking about the real Department and five years ago, I could probably give you one off the shelf that would have the required accuracy and capacity of perhaps one hour. Time turners were never really meant for precision work, you see, and the precision ones were mostly experimental only. But given some time, say, a month, one of my people could have built you one with up to four, maybe four and a half hours of capacity.

"But that was five years ago. Now I don't have the workshops of the department any more, and my best people are either dead or have left the country. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do."

-o-

"So you've been researching the use of time turners, and how one could help me to fight the final battle, alone, and perhaps end this war for good?" asked Harry from Hermione. He had been interrogating her since she had returned from her visit at the main Order compound, looking utterly defeated.

"Well, yes, but it's not going to be of any use, as we don't have a suitable time turner nor the resources to make one"

"And you're sure it would work? I mean, shouldn't I have to be able to survive the battle alone in the first place before I could then go back in time to help myself? Or... wow, that's confusing"

"I'm not sure, to be honest", Hermione said, a little ashamed that her theory had such an obvious hole in it. "But it seems that magic is at least somewhat predestined, all with prophecies and what not. You remember back in third year, when we went back to save Sirius? That's what gave me the idea in the first place: you've done it before."

"Oh right, we would have all been dead if I hadn't saved us with the patronus, I remember that"

"And I think the prophecy might actually work in your advantage in this one. It's predetermined that you can kill Voldemort, so the magic involved should ensure that you survive the fight to go back and help yourself to survive the battle."

"And Voldemort certainly wouldn't expect there to be more than one of me fighting him, so that would also cover the 'power he knows not' aspect" Harry said, getting increasingly more optimistic about Hermione's plan.

"Yes, that's what I thought too. But it's of no use. As I said, we don't have a time turner capable of doing that, or the resources to create one", Hermione said, hanging her head down.

Harry's eyes were full of determination. "Then lets get the resources", he said. "Come, we go see that Unspeakable of yours and ask what he needs."

-o-

International travel out of magical Britain had been severely hampered by the war. The ICW had blocked all international portkeys in and out of the island with the exception of ICW approved ones after Voldemort had captured the Ministry. As the Order lacked any kind of official juridical authority (the order leader Shacklebolt still only had the official rank of Senior Auror), the blockade couldn't have been lifted, and the only way to get out of country by portkey was to go to the ICW office and request one. It was a well known fact that both Death Eaters and the Order had their guards looking out for anyone entering and exiting the building in hopes to monitor international travel, and thus Harry and Hermione, who hoped to keep their plans secret from both sides were boarding the Paris bound Eurostar train at the Waterloo International railway station in London.

The Unspeakable they had talked to had admitted that he himself really wasn't able to craft a new time turner even with the right equipment, as he lacked the necessary skill. But he had given them a lead to a man in Paris, who should be able to help them. What they were looking for was someone with the skills and tools equivalent to that of a magical watchmaker, and there simply weren't any of those in Britain, at least as far as the Unspeakable knew of. He had also reluctantly parted from the only working time turner he still had, and had even given them an non-functional one to salvage parts from, if and when they would find the right person for the job. When Harry and Hermione had asked him to keep silent about their activities the Unspeakable had actually laughed and explained that no one in the Order were actually the least bit interested in what the remaining of the Department of Mysteries were doing. And that his oaths prevented him from reporting of the Department projects to anyone else than a few selected officials in the Ministry, none of which existed currently.

So, when the train departed for the two and half hour journey to Paris, Harry and Hermione, who were traveling under false identities just in case, were relatively sure no one at home knew where they were headed. Their absence would be soon noted by the Order, but that wouldn't raise any alarm, as ever since their "search and destroy" missions for Voldemort's horcruxes they had operated as independent agents with no official standing in the Order, and with no one they were responsible of reporting to. They had left a note for Kingsley that they were working on a top secret operation, and that was the extent of their communication with the Order.

As the train reached the British side entrance to the Channel Tunnel, Harry and Hermione were working out the general outline of the final battle, so that they could determine the specifications for the time turner they would need.

"The biggest problem is time", Hermione explained. "We won't be able to have more than eight, maybe eight and a half hours of capacity in the turner even when you factor in the fact that it will be recharging during the battle. So unless you want to fight against completely impossible odds, the fight should be over in fifteen minutes, tops, to give you some time to fix yourself up and gather some strength before going back in time."

"And then there's the fact that you appear in the same place where you are when you use the device, so the battle should preferably take place in, I don't know, a small building, so that there's not much distance between the starting point and where I will be when the battle ends", added Harry.

"Yes", said Hermione. "But the biggest problem is that Voldemort must be present there, and he has developed a strong paranoia during last years. He wont leave his chambers without a good reason, and there's no way you could infiltrate them without getting stuck in a crossfire situation where reinforcements would arrive behind you when you were fighting your way in through the defences. And that would take too much time, and the time turner would be rendered useless."

"So the battle needs to be fought somewhere where we know Voldemort will be, where I can infiltrate without the need of fighting through guards and where there will be no reinforcements coming from behind. And that place must be small enough that there wont be need to do any running around" Harry summed the conclusion. "I know you, Hermione, we wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't thought of something already. What is it that you have in your mind?"

Hermione looked suddenly nervous. She looked out of the window, seeing only the lights guiding to the emergency exits flashing by as the train went along the tunnel at speed of almost three hundred kilometres per hour.

"Well, I did give it some thought", she admitted. "I think that the best opportunity would be during the annual general assembly, that's supposed to be held about three months from now."

"What?" shouted Harry, attracting attention of some of the nearby passengers. "You want me to attack the whole of the Dark Army, alone? How many of them there is, anyway? Two hundred?" he whispered, noticing the unwanted audience of businessmen, that were already returning their attention to their Financial Times'.

"About that, yes, at least according to latest intelligence", Hermione answered back, silently. She didn't like either, but it was the best she could think of. "But think about it. They will be all packed in one room, so there will be no reinforcements coming from behind. They won't be able to use their superior numbers as they are too tightly packed to fight effectively. Some of them will definitely be drunk. And that's pretty much the last place they will expect an attack, as they think the location is secret and the wards are impenetrable. What they don't know is that the Order has re-gained the ability to detect magic of that magnitude, and that you can simply walk in as if there were no wards."

Harry massaged his temples, thinking about what Hermione had just said. Yes, it did sound like a possibility, and yes, he would definitely have the element of surprise on his side. He looked up at Hermione, who was looking at him with a curious mix of uncertainty and determination in her eyes. Harry sighed. Hermione had always been the one to think things through, and she wouldn't suggest a plan of action, if she didn't think it had at least somewhat good chances of success. And it had been only a few days back when he had himself threatened to assault Voldemort's headquarters alone. And that had been before there had been the option of having a group of time travelling Potters there to aid him.

Harry sighed again. "Okay", he said finally. "Lets work with that for the moment. So what does it mean for the time turner?"

Hermione gave Harry a small smile before explaining. "I was thinking of about 25 of you arriving simultaneously. That would mean that you would have twenty minutes to fight the battle, and about eight to one odds. Twenty minutes should be more than enough as all of you will be in the same room, and you should be able to even the odds to at least three to one before the Death Eaters get their act together and manage to get enough space around them to cast properly. And really, with you fighting alongside with yourself, with prior knowledge of how the enemy will react, three to one isn't all that bad with you having the advantage of better position and, lets face it, superior skill."

Harry was thinking about it all. Yes, that would do it. He mentally thought over the ambush: what spells he would use, how he would position himself in an assembly hall, what he could use for cover. He wasn't sure how to react to Hermione's praise. Yes, he had trained extensively, and yes, the average Death Eater wasn't the brightest wand in the dark, but he still had some reservations about thinking himself as superior to anyone.

Hermione took his silence as an encouragement to continue. "I also thought about adding some sort of timer in the time turner, so that you wouldn't have to operate it manually, and could use the surprise with maximum efficiency. It's really all about the first few seconds when you arrive and the Death Eaters don't know what is happening. If all of you manage to get their spells of at the same time, the ensuing chaos will give you even more time to work with your advantage."

The more Harry heard of Hermione's plan and the more he himself thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. This would finally be the change to end this blasted war for good, and Harry was going to grab at it with both hands if they could manage to get the device to work like they wanted it to.

Harry and Hermione spent the rest of their journey to Paris ironing out details of what they would need from the time turner.

-o-

The centre of wizarding Paris is situated on a small island right in the heart of the city, between Île de la Cité and the museum of Louvre. The Île de la Sorcière, as is the islands full name dating back to the times of Roman Empire, or simply 'Le Île', or 'The Island' among the Parisian magicals is an impressive example of hiding in clear sight. The island was first hidden in the early middle age with simple notice-me-not charms to protect the inhabitants from prosecution, and after the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was ratified in 1692 the wards were augmented with complex illusion and invisibility ones. Perhaps the best proof of the efficiency of the wards used to hide the Île is the Pont des Arts that was built straight over the island in early 19th century, and later rebuilt in 1980's. There had been a lot of strange occurrences during the construction of the bridge, but those were accounted as things to expect when using a completely new or, in the case of rebuilding, totally obsolete bridge building technology.

The small, narrow island is also a showcase of the usage of space enlarging charms, but even with them most of the apartments, businesses and streets are cramped to the extreme, and the prices of real estate at least as high as in the muggle Paris.

It was right here, in the ground floor of a narrow, baroque style, four story building on the southern bank of the island were the Unspeakable had said Harry and Hermione would find a small shop dedicated to repairing magical objects. The shop owner, an old wizard named Jean-Luc d'Armagnac, wouldn't necessary be able build the time turner for them, but, the Unspeakable had stressed, he would definitely know the right person for the job.

A small bell chimed announcing the entrance of new visitors when Harry opened the door and stepped in the dingy shop. There were all kinds of trinkets for sale, many of which would have felt right at home in Dumbledore's office while he was still alive and the Headmaster of Hogwarts School. Some of the trinkets seemed to react to the presence of Harry and Hermione by starting to spin around or emit tiny sounds, others looked like some kind of tools designed to track the movement of planets on the sky. In one corner stood a particularly impressive clock with five faces and at least two dozen hands.

Harry and Hermione were brought back from their gazing when an old, grey haired wizard emerged from the back room. He was dressed in a well fitting muggle suit, and the could say he was a wizard only because he had an unmistakable aura of magic around him. They had noticed during the short time they had walked at the Île that the French witches and wizards dressed much more like muggles than the British ones. Sure, there were the occasional robes here and there, but those were certainly in minority, and mostly used by the older people or as uniforms by what looked like government officials.

"Hello there, can I help you?", the shopkeeper asked Harry and Hermione with impeccable English.

"Well, yes, I believe you can", said Hermione. "We were looking for Jean-Luc d'Armagnac".

"Ah, is it so? Well, I am Jean-Luc, though my friends call me simply Jean", the shopkeeper said, offering his hand to Hermione.

"Nice to meet you, mr. d'Armagnac", said Hermione, taking the offered hand, and shaking it briefly. "My name is Hermione Granger, and my friend is Harry Potter. We were told you would be able to help us in a matter of utmost importance."

"Mr. Potter", d'Armagnac said, offering his hand to Harry too. "I have of course heard of you and have followed the development of the situation across the channel to my best capability. What can I do for you?"

"We have a specialized magical device that needs to be made, and our adviser told us that you would be able to help us. He said what we need is someone with the skills and tools of a magical watchmaker", Harry answered, trying carefully to not to reveal too much about their plans, as he didn't know whether to trust this man or not.

"Careful, I see?" said d'Armagnac, amused. "That's good, I would be in your situation too", he continued. "But I'm afraid I cannot help you with this device of yours. You see, time doesn't spare any of us, and my eyes aren't good enough for that kind of work any more, and now I can only fix some less delicate things up. And most of these things aren't necessarily meant to be used for anything, they are more ornaments to be placed on mantelpiece than anything else. And I believe you are looking for decorations, am I correct?"

"Yes", was Harry's simple reply.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help", apologized d'Armagnac. "Had you come twenty years earlier I would have been happy to help you, but now the best I can do is to point you to new direction. If you are looking for a magical watchmaker, your best bet is always Switzerland. I have an old friend who has his workshop in Basel, and I hear he has a young apprentice who is the most skilled craftsman, or craftswoman in this case, he has ever seen."

-o-

The next morning Harry and Hermione found themselves in Basel. The travel there had been a lot easier than from London to Paris. They had simply paid for a certified international portkey at the Île de la Sorcière portkey terminal after eating a tasty dinner in a small restaurant in the muggle Paris and sleeping their night in a hotel.

It didn't take long to find the right place with the directions from d'Armagnac, and soon Harry and Hermione were standing in front of shop that seemed to sell watches to both muggle and magical customers. At least the shop was situated on a common street at the centre of the city, with no muggle repellent magic on sight. When inside, there was two bells on the counter top, with the other being of obviously magical nature, and with muggle notice-me-not charms clearly active. Harry rang that bell, and soon a elderly man came to greet them, and quickly showed them to a back room through a concealed doorway. Once there the wizard (for wizard he was) greeted Harry and Hermione with obvious enthusiasm.

"Good to see you, good to see you. Sit down please, can I offer you refreshments? No? It's good to see young people interested in quality timepieces, those things they sell in usual shops aren't worth calling watches. You're from Britain, right? I know that place in Diagon Alley, terrible quality, I say, terrible. At least it was when I last visited, it might have changed, though I doubt it", the wizard trailed off, suddenly remembering the reason why the British market had dried up completely during last few years.

"Oh, pardon me, my name is Manfred Strasser, it's just that I don't have that many customers of our kind, as most rely on the Tempus charm or those cheap things that almost anybody could charm."

The Tempus charm, while absolutely accurate, had one huge drawback. It was based on the solar day instead of standardized time zones, and thus for example in Britain there was a time difference of thirty seven minutes between Lowestoft in the east and the westernmost parts of Outer Hebrides. It didn't matter much as the wizarding society used the solar time as their official time, and most people quickly learned the time differences between the places they frequented. And the important apparition points and portkey terminals had tables showing time differences to major wizarding settlements. But while travelling in the muggle world the Tempus charm was next to useless, as one had no means of knowing the time difference to the local standard time. And of course drawing a wand to check the time in the muggle areas was frowned upon by the wizarding authorities.

As a solution to this problem those people who frequented in the muggle world could by cheap mechanical muggle watches charmed to work with magic, or in some cases completely mechanical automatic watches. But the most comprehensive and also the most expensive solution was to buy a specially crafted magical watch, that would show both the local muggle time and the current solar time, and in some cases even the solar times of other places. As such watches were considerably pricey, they were also seen as status symbols, and thus for example Lucius Malfoy would never be seen using his wand to check the time like a common plebeian, but he would dig up his custom made, silver pocket watch with the Malfoy family crest engraved on the cover. Of course, his watch didn't show the muggle time, but the solar times of most important Wizarding locations like Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and, again of course, the Malfoy Manor.

"Good day, sir. I am Harry Potter, and this is my friend, Hermione Granger" Harry answered to the old man. "And I'm afraid we aren't here to buy watches, but rather by the recommendation of Jean-Luc d'Armagnac from Paris."

"Harry Potter, you say? Ah, I've heard of you. And good old Armagnac! Getting better as he ages, I presume?" said Manfred, looking a bit disappointed after hearing that Harry wasn't in the market for watches, but keeping his jovial mood none the less.

"And what was it that Jean-Luc recommended me for, if not a watch?"

"Well, yes. I'm sure you're familiar with the situation in Britain?", Harry asked, and after Manfred gave him a nod, he continued. "You see, we have plan to hopefully make some progress in solving that situation, but for that we need a specialized device, and we've been told you would be our best bet of getting it made."

"Ah, I see. What kind of device you are talking about?"

Harry and Hermione had decided the previous evening that they would play their cards openly. They had no reason to believe Manfred would betray their plans to Voldemort, and they would eventually have to trust someone. And they would ask for an oath of silence, anyway, and obliviate Strasser if he refused.

"I'm talking about a time turner. You are familiar with these?"

Harry and Hermione could see Manfred's eyes widen in surprise as Hermione took the device from her purse and laid it on the table in front of them.

"A time turner? Really? I have heard of them, of course, who in the business of watchmaking wouldn't have, but the British Unspeakables have been guarding their secrets rather jealously, so I can't say I would be familiar with them."

Now was Hermione's turn to provide the details of their request. "The thing is, we need a specially constructed, extremely precise time turner for a planned operation that just might end the war for good. But, the facilities of the Unspeakables have been severely damaged, so we needed to come to the continent for help. We have been told that you're the best, and we have every confidence that you will be able to provide us with the device we need. We have this working example for you to study and reverse engineer, and also an another, defunct device to salvage parts and the all important time sand from. We also brought all of the literature we could get the Unspeakables to give us for you to use as reference."

Hermione looked at Manfred seriously. "Now, are you willing to give it a shot?", she asked. "We will of course pay for your time and any materials you need."

Manfred was looking at the device, thinking. "I cannot promise that I will succeed, but I will do my best", he said, now in more serious tone. "As for paying, I consider the opportunity to learn about these things payment enough for my time. I will use the materials from my workshop, and we can negotiate payment later when I know what I will need and what I can use from these devices."

Manfred rose up and walked to fetch a tea pot and three cups, along with some pastries and poured a cup for each of them.

"Now, lets have some tea while we discuss the exact specifications and special features you'll need for the final product", he said, regaining his earlier, happy persona now that the situation was again more like the ones he had had so many times before with wealthy customers asking for custom watches.

-o-

The weeks after their return from Switzerland went slowly for Harry and Hermione. Manfred had promised to give some kind of estimate of the time he needed to craft the time turner after he had studied them and made the final designs for the complete product. The device would be specially made for just this one operation in mind. It would be designed with an integrated timer that would activate the device automatically after precisely twenty minutes, and to go back in timed only and exactly twenty minutes at a time. There would also be a clock face with a countdown timer, as well as a counter to count how many times the device had been activated after last reset. It would have absolutely maximum amount of time sand that would still be stable enough for precise operation, although Manfred had assured them after a short inspection of the working device that he would probably be able to do a lot more precise work than the British Unspeakables had managed. All in all, it would be an unimaginably complicated piece of precision made mechanics, charmed components and active magic, and an absolutely priceless object, if it would be ever sold. Harry and Hermione had promised to try to convince the Unspeakables to give it to Manfred for showcasing, if the operation would go as planned.

The timing was crucial. No one in the Order knew of the time or place of this years Annual General Assembly, other than it was expected to be held during the next few months. They had interrogated a recently captured Death Eater about the usual organizations of the assemblies, but even the Death Eaters wouldn't know of the location until a few days before the D-Day. Harry had pestered the auror responsible for monitoring the Large Scale Magic Sensor until he had promised to send a message as soon as they would have more information. Harry had told that they had plans that required the Death Eaters to be gathered in the assembly, so that they wouldn't be elsewhere. That was a lie, but only partially, and Harry didn't really want the whole order to come by and wish him good luck. He was sure that the Order was compromised at least on some level, and there really wasn't anything the others could do to help Harry in this one.

Harry had spent more and more time on the range, practising his spells. He had run a few scenarios with the training dummies packed in a tight group to determine which spells to lead with. He was working on dodging against multiple opponents, up to ten at the time. He was refining his basic filed first aid. And every evening Hermione would cling to him like it was the last evening they would see each other. Neither of them actually voiced this concern, but it was present, none the less.

Finally, after forty one days of waiting, a long distance express owl arrived during the lunch and delivered a note from Manfred:

_All is done and tested. It's a beauty. Pick up at your convenience._

_-M.S._

Harry and Hermione started to prepare for leaving immediately. The General Assembly would be held on any day now, and they really wanted to do their own tests on the device before show-time.

As they were about to leave for the train station, a silvery badger emerged through the wall. "Full set of wards coming up in Southern Norfolk. Looks like this is it", the badger said in the voice of the monitoring auror.

"Fuck", was all Harry had time to say before he apparated away.

-o-

Using the Eurostar train was one of the more comfortable and faster ways of getting out of the portkey-blocked island. But it was not the fastest by far. Harry was working totally by the feeling on his gut as he was improvising a new strategy to reach the continental part of Europe. The first step had been to apparate on the cliffs of Dover, a place where Hermione had brought him a few years earlier when he had been brooding again and reminded her that he had never seen the sea even though he was living on a bloody island. It had been only a few months after the deaths of the Weasleys, and the battle of Hogwarts was still in fresh memory. Hermione had sent her parents to Australia, and they had been living together in safe houses provided by the Order. It had been there when they watched the sun rise from the sea after spending the night sitting on the cliffs keeping each other warm and listening to the sounds of waves hitting the shore and ships passing each others in the channel where Harry and Hermione had again found their will to fight, even after the recent losses.

So here he was again, standing on the cliffs and looking towards France. He briefly remembered that night with Hermione, until he noticed a small boat leaving the harbour below him. There was only one man standing in the wheel, and Harry could see the boat was built for speed. That would be just what he needed.

Harry concentrated. Apparating to a moving target was something all theory guides agreed one was better off without trying, as it was about the fastest way to injury there was. And the boat was slowly gaining speed as it approached the mouth of the harbour and open water.

It was with a soft thud that Harry landed on the boat, cushioned with the lone sailor who now laid on the deck knocked out cold by Harry. Harry didn't waste time marvelling at his good luck, but opened up on the throttle not caring about speed limits in the harbour, and turned the boat to south-east, towards France. He would only need to get about halfway over, and then he would again apparate without caring about the apparition redirection wards that all countries used to channel people apparating across borders to customs check points. The wards between France and England had always been tricky ones as a legacy to the friendly and not always so friendly rivalry between the two nations, but now that there was a war going on in Britain they were downright nasty. Luckily no magic could prevent one from crossing the ward lines using muggle means, and thus the wards were usually more of a formality than actual security feature.

The boat Harry had commandeered was truly a fast one, with two huge three hundred horsepower outboard motors giving it top speed of more than Harry really liked on a thing that was confined on the bumpy surface of the sea. But speed was of essence now, and Harry couldn't really complain about the performance. The journey south-east was going as smoothly as it could on a small boat going full out on open sea, and just as the rightful owner of the vessel was starting to wake up from his head trauma induced sleep Harry felt the French apparition wards pass by. Before the sailor had time to ask any unnecessarily difficult questions Harry apparated away from the boat, straight to the portkey terminal on the Île he had used on his earlier trip with Hermione. He might have tried to apparate to the Swiss-French border and cross it by foot somewhere in the mountains, but he really didn't need to try another example of what not to do while apparating; doing it blindly to unknown terrain. The portkey terminal operated quickly enough, and in the wizarding Switzerland was a lot more accomodating to foreigners arriving without proper documentation than the muggle one.

Harry was rather proud of himself as he arrived to Manfred Strassers shop only forty minutes after he had received the note. He still had a few hours before the General Assembly would begin.

"Ah, welcome back, young friend! I was wondering if my note had reached you already", Manfred greeted Harry as he entered the shop. "Come, I have the device waiting at the back room".

"I came as soon as I could, probably broke at least a dozen of laws doing so", Harry answered, as they again went through the concealed door to the back room. "The opportunity moment for the use of the device came sooner than we had hoped, and we won't even have time to test it properly", he continued, adrenaline still flowing in his veins after the hurried journey through Europe.

"Don't worry about that", assured Manfred. "I have tested it exhaustively, and I trust my work will function right as you want it to. It's about professional pride."

"I trust you, of course, but it would still have been nice to be able to test it personally before going live in real situation. But I digress. Now, how much do I owe you? I'm sorry I can't engage in much small talk, but I really am in a hurry."

"Well, I took the liberty to copy much of the books you gave me as reference, and I believe I will make a lot of money out of that information. And to be honest, I kind of like the idea that I on my own part was able to help on the war effort. You see, I came to Switzerland when the second world war and the war against Grindelwald seemed inevitable, and I was somewhat ashamed that I didn't do anything to aid in the war effort but escaped like a coward", said Manfred, sincerely. "But if you ever need a quality watch, I would be happy to sell you one", he added, with a happier tone.

"I don't know how to thank you enough, Manfred, but I really must go now. I still have preparations that need to be done."

"Good bye, Harry, and good luck!"

-o-

Harrys return trip to England went a lot more smoothly than the arrival. He had again taken an international portkey to Paris, but as he had apparated to Calais to find a new boat to commandeer, a silvery otter had arrived to bringing news from Hermione. She was totally incensed at Harry leaving her without saying anything else than what he had said, and informed that that kind of behavior would not be tolerated. After that she had told that the Order had pinpointed the location of the venue for the Annual General Assembly, and she had managed to scout the surrounding area using Harry's invisibility cloak. The wards extended well into the surrounding forest, and Hermione had been able to observe Death Eaters arriving, and that this indeed seemed to be the opportunity they had awaited.

As much of the ground work had now been done and the hurry had somewhat lessened, and as there didn't seem to be any speedboats conveniently leaving the harbour on this side of the channel, Harry apparated on the roof of a passenger ferry that was presently preparing to leave for Dover. In there Harry managed to hid himself behind the smoke stack, and after a cushioning charm on the metal roof he was able to make himself comfortable for the journey towards England.

While he was waiting for the ferry to leave the French ward line, Harry had time to take a look at the device that was essential for the success of their plan and more generally perhaps even for the whole outcome of the current war. Manfred had packed it nicely in a wooden box, where it was cushioned with velvet. As Harry uncovered the device from its wrappings, he almost dropped it. Manfred hadn't lied when he had said it was a beauty. The small hourglass that was characteristic to time turners was surrounded by an intricate web of cogwheels and sprockets, springs and clockwork. The whole device was encased in protective glass, that Harry suspected was charmed unbreakable. A small activation switch was located at the top of the device, where also the chain that would go around the users neck was attached. The small clock face with exactly twenty minutes was located so that it would be easy to read when the device was hanging from the neck, as was the counter that would count the activation cycles.

The polished brass and glass were shimmering in the sunlight as Harry felt the crossing of the French ward line the second time in few hours. He hastily packed the device back in it's box and apparated back to the safe house he was currently using with Hermione.

When he arrived to the house he was instantly captured in a tight hug by Hermione, all anger about his earlier behaviour forgotten.

"Oh, Harry!" She said. "I wish it wouldn't have to be this way, but I know you must do this. Just be safe, and don't do anything foolishly brave, promise me, Harry."

Harry took his invisibility cloak from Hermione and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "I promise."

And with that he left to the battle.


	3. Now We Are Free

One Man Army

Chapter 3: Now We Are Free

Adrenaline was flowing in Harry's veins as he entered the assembly hall through the smoking remains of the door. Focus and state of mind honed to a sharpest point by countless hours of practice and battles allowed Harry a split second to contemplate how this felt eerily like flying after the snitch on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. He further remembered that he hadn't played Quidditch since his sixth year in school. Harry woke from his introspection as his second blasting curse connected with the side of the head of an unprepared Death Eater who had just had time to react to the explosion of the door with loud boom and sickening sight of red mist flying around. He saw shrapnel and body parts flying around along with unmistakable bright orange of blasting curses. Harry went with the practised battle routine of firing and dodging, showing smaller side profile towards the enemy while keeping constantly moving for not to give the opponents easy stationary target. It didn't look dignified or cool, but it worked, and Harry had stayed alive through many battles using this same pattern.

As the battle raged around him, Harry had time to take a look at his surroundings. Two dozen Harry Potters covered with various amounts of blood and grime were moving all along the back of the large assembly room, firing blasting and piercing curses at the black robed enemy in front of them. Few of the cleaner Harry's had toppled the large buffet tables down to create cower from the first spells the Death Eaters had managed to get off. Their aim was wildly inaccurate, as the Death Eaters were packed so tightly together they were constantly bumping into each other trying to dodge incoming fire or climbing up under their dead comrades that had fallen from the opening salvo of blasting hexes. More and more Death Eaters were falling all the time, victims of piercing curses from the army of Potters or from dark magic thrown in the mix by Voldemort himself and his inner circle with little regard if their spells would hit their own people or one of the Harry's.

It was bloody. It was gory. It was ugly. But then, war is.

After only a few minutes of bloody mayhem the Dark Army was utterly decimated, and only Voldemort with a few of his most loyal and skilful followers were standing, surrounded by the Potters and a room full of mostly dead Death Eaters. One of the Potters had been hit by a dark cutting curse, and was being patched up by two others at the far corner of the room, covered by fourth and fifth. A sixth one was quietly tending to a dislocated shoulder with the help of seventh, and three were quickly checking that none of the fallen Death Eaters were playing possum to get in cheap shots at the backs of the Potters and stunning and stabilising with stasis charms those few that were whimpering or screaming wounded. The rest were eyeing the remaining enemies, with only minor cuts and bruises from narrowly dodged curses and shrapnel from walls and furniture, that were blown to smithereens in the short but intense battle.

"Damn you Potter and all your friends!" yelled Voldemort, his gloving, blood red eyes moving from one Harry to next. "Polyjuice won't help you fulfil the prophecy, and you know that! And you are no match to me in a fight!"

Harry was looking around, waiting for one of the other Harrys to take initiative. They had seen this same scene before, after all. Most of them were looking expectingly at the one standing directly in front of Voldemort, who in turn was looking around a bit confused.

"Oh, right" He said finally. "It's my turn.

"You see, old Tom, this isn't polyjuice. This is the genuine article. This is the 'Power He Knows Not'. Now me, myself and I", he said, gesturing at the other Potters around, "are going to kill you, and there's nothing you can do about it"

"You seem terribly confident, boy! I am Lord Voldemort. No one can beat me!" the Dark Lord answered, although Harry could see fear slowly creeping in his eyes.

"Well, I have my reasons to be confident. Let's just say I've seen this coming. On my mark guys!"

And as one, without any visible mark, all of the Potters raised their wands and launched their most powerful piercing curses at Lord Voldemort and his remaining supporters. Three of them managed to get shields up in time, but as there were curses coming from every direction, they did no good for them. With five dull thuds as their bodies hit the ground, the Dark Lord and his Dark Army was no more.

Harry was a bit surprised at the blasé attitude the other Harrys were having at the defeat of the most powerful dark lord in centuries, until he realized that it was the twentieth time some of them had seen the scene, and that he himself had to fight through the bloody and grim battle over and over again, and suddenly all his will to celebrate evaporated and his face fell to a similar weary and empty look he was seeing on the other Harrys. He suddenly realized the true scope of his plan; war was never pretty, but this was ugly to the extreme. Fighting the same battle with over two hundred enemy casualties, two dozen times in a row. Actually killing most of those two hundred men, women, and lets face it, children by yourself. Knowing in advance where they were going to be, how they were going to die. Remembering how the piercing curse flew through the eye of the betrayer Pettigrew blowing the back of his head out showering Bellatrix with bits of brain, and knowing that maybe next time it would be his piercing curse that would end the rat's life. Witnessing over five thousand deaths during one gory day, even if they were the same deaths over and over again.

He knew he wouldn't be the same man after this. He could see that the other Harrys weren't the same man any more.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "I know how you feel", said the Harry behind him. "But you must also understand that you don't need to be the same man any more after this. The war is over, you don't need to raise your wand against anyone else after you finish fighting this one last battle".

The other Harry left Harry standing by himself, took the device out of his shirt for a look as he was walking towards the centre of the room.

"Okay, guys", he shouted clapping his hands to get attention. "We still have a few minutes to do a final sweep before we need to get into position for the next round. Check that those are really dead and collect their wands to the back of the room. Clean yourselves a bit so that the new guy won't freeze when he sees you all bloody and dirty", He said.

"As this was my final round, I'm not coming with you, but I'll stay behind to clean this mess up. It's been an honour to fight with you, gentlemen. And don't fret, there's nothing any of you can do to help me from getting hit by that cutting curse. It's okay, they have plenty of quality medical supplies at the storage room back there, and God knows you've been hurt often enough to know what to do with them". He took one more look at the device. "Two minutes! Let's move!"

Harry was forced to abandon his moody introspection about madness of war as he was once again swept along by it to the frantic preparation for the next battle. He quickly checked the nearest bodies, summoning their wands and hurried to the back of the room where the other Harrys were already positioning themselves along the back wall, some drinking pepper-up potions they had found from the storage cabinet, some flexing their wand arms and focusing already on the blasting curses that were going to be the opening salvo of the next round of the battle. The Harry that was giving orders was standing in the middle of the room, looking at his device.

"Good luck", he said, "and do what you must, so that no one else must do the same."

With those final words the device activated. Harry felt a familiar spinning sensation he had last felt during his third year in Hogwarts as he was forcibly sucked through the time for the first time today.

The sound of the first blasting curse that had shredded the door was still echoing in the hall and first Death Eaters were already falling down hit by the shrapnel from the door as Harry landed, ready for battle, with his two dozen comrades. He felt the magic pooling itself inside him as he raised his wand and let loose a blasting curse towards the enemy. Red mist was spraying in the air and the room was filled with the sound of explosions and screaming Death Eaters as the round two of the battle begun.

-o-

Eight hours later a tired Harry was standing in front of two dozen Potters giving his final advice for them. Most of them looked tired and defeated, as he himself had been for the last ten or so times, but he knew he had to do this. And he remembered how much these words had helped him when the reality had hit him after the first battle. He was looking at the 'youngest' Harry as he was speaking. He truly had looked miserable back then, but he could see the determination coming back to his eyes and the grip on his wand tighten as he spoke.

"Good luck", he said. "and do what you must, so that no one else must do the same."

And with that he was alone.

The silence after almost ten hours of constant battle and hasty regrouping was deafening. Somewhere in the room a quiet cracking could be heard as charred remains of some piece of furniture were slowly cooling after being burned in the heat of the battle. Blood was dripping with silent splats from the Death Eater that had died half hanging over the edge of the small podium in the front of the hall. A crow was croaking outside in the sunshine, which was filtering through the broken windows casting rays in the dust and smoke that was hanging in the air.

The smells of blood, burnt flesh and every kind of bodily fluid imaginable were nauseating as Harry walked towards the pile of wands taken from the enemies, but Harry's senses had numbed to them long ago. He himself had taken the yew and phoenix feather wand from Voldemort, and was holding it in his hand. The white wand looked innocent, like any other wand made by Mr. Ollivander and sold to an eleven year old child before going to Hogwarts. Harry knew that the wand was a brother to his own, and thus it shouldn't have came as a surprise that it too felt warm and inviting in Harry's hand, but somehow he was disgusted of his reaction to the wand.

'Why oh why wouldn't Voldemort have had some kind of evil looking wand with skulls and bones decorating it' thought Harry. 'Then it would be so much easier to understand how the man himself became so evil.

'But no, he had a white wand with a phoenix feather of all things as a core'

Harry dropped the wand on top of the others, slumped on the floor, his back against a relatively intact piece of wall and broke down crying, the adrenaline finally evaporating from his blood and leaving only a wreck behind.

-o-

Harry didn't know how long he had sat there, half asleep from exhaustion, going over and over again the events of the day. The sun was already shining from a lower angle, and it's rays were hitting the grotesque sight of a Death Eater that had died on his chair, probably from one of the first piercing curses. His head had fallen backwards, and the curse had hit him from behind blowing his face off leaving only a gaping hole of blood and brains.

"Harry?", called the voice that had woken him from his thoughts again. Harry looked up at the door with puffed, red eyes. He had cried his tears out long ago, and there was nothing more left in his eyes than despair and emptiness.

"Oh, Harry! You were supposed to send a message to us, remember?", said Hermione, rushing to embrace Harry. "We were so worried! We thought the plan had failed, but then there wasn't anything from Voldemort either, and no Death Eater activity anywhere, so we came here to search for you."

Hermione pushed Harry at arms length and looked at him. Harry lowered his eyes to the floor.

"Harry? Are you all right?" asked Hermione with worry clearly in her voice. "What's the matter? Are you hurt?" she continued. "Voldemort didn't escape or do anything to you, did he?"

"No, he's dead, all right. And I'm fine", replied Harry with a raspy voice.

"Don't you 'I'm fine' me, Mr. Potter! I know you're not fine, I've seen you like that often enough to know you're not all right!" Hermione raised her voice. "Now what's the matter? Shouldn't you be happy that the war is over?"

"Hermione, look at me", Harry said quietly, raising his head to look at Hermione. "Look around you. I did this, Hermione. I killed all these people. And then I went back in time and killed them again. And again, and again, and again..." Harry's voice died out

"Oh, Harry..." was all Hermione could say, as she finally took in the scene of utter destruction and carnage around her. Some of the other people from the Order were silently walking among the bodies that littered the room, portkeying the ones in stasis out.

"It was terrible, 'Mione. There was this one Death Eater, he was sitting right there" Harry said, pointing towards a spot close to the door.

"He was younger than us, 'Mione. He was sitting right there, probably in his first meeting, when I came in and blasted them apart. He was thrown to the floor by the opening salvo, and before he died only seconds later he managed to crawl over the one that had sat next to him, one that got hit from the start, and as his final words he cried 'Mother!'. I'll never forget the look at his face, the concern for his dead mother, over and over again. And then, over and over again, the stray curse from another Death Eater, imbalanced by Death eaters dying all around him, that hit his head form behind and blew that expression apart. How could I do that, how can I live with myself knowing I was able to do that?"

Harry reached to the pile of wands next to him, and took the wand of Voldemort in his hand.

"And then there's this, Hermione", he said, showing the wand to her. "Do you know what this is? This is his wand, 'Mione, this is Voldemort's wand. Look at it, Hermione. Just look at it. It's just like mine, simple, beautiful even. Made by Ollivander, sold to an eleven year old Tom Riddle. And it bloody responds to me just like my own!", Harry cried out, sobbing.

Hermione hugged Harry silently. She had known right from the beginning that if (when, she corrected herself) the plan was successful, Harry would feel tremendous quilt over the people he would be forced to kill to get to Voldemort. But, she had to admit to herself, the scene around her and the story about the young boy and his mother were more than she had anticipated during planning. It was easy to think of the masked Death Eaters simply as an enemy that needed to be removed for the greater good. Hell, the training dummies they used had Death Eater masks. But to witness first hand that the Death Eaters had family, that they were afraid for their loved ones; that would totally destroy Harry, who had grown up dreaming of a loving mother of his own.

Hermione hold Harry tighter in her embrace. "Shh... you'll never be like him, and you know that. I know that." Hermione whispered to his ear.

"How do you know that?" asked Harry, still sobbing, but now responding to Hermiones embrace by his own needy hug.

"How do I know that? Do you think that Tom Riddle was a sobbing mess after he killed his own family? Do you think that he would cry over some boy who just lost his mother before killing or trying to kill the said boy? No, he would laugh at the boy, and you know that, better than anybody else!"

Harry was quiet, and sobbed once more. Somehow Hermione knew that this time he didn't think of the Death Eaters he had killed, but his own mother, killed by Voldemort.

"I thought so" said Hermione. They held each other for a while, until Hermione could feel Harry relaxing for a bit.

"Let's go", she said. "You need a long, hot shower, and then you need to sleep. You're wasted."

Hermione rose up, took the yew wand from Harry and straightened her clothes. She felt for the wards: the Order had apparently managed to lower the anti apparition wards. She nodded to Kingsley who had taken control of the scene that everything was fine and she would take care of Harry, and apparated both of them to the safe houses they were using.

-o-

The next morning breakfast was a quiet affair between Harry and Hermione. The Daily prophet that had been reduced to a weekly Order controlled newsletter because of the war had printed a special edition, with a full page photo of Harry taken when he was still at school on the front page with a huge headline "Harry Potter Kills Dark Lord" with a bold declaration of "War Is Over" under the picture. Hermione had been hesitant to show the paper to Harry, as she knew well how sensitive he was with everything that was written about him. And she had been right: Harry had fallen deeper into his funk after seeing the picture and the headlines.

"What's the matter, Harry?", Hermione asked carefully.

"It's just that everybody is cheering for me, just like the Death Eaters were cheering for Voldemort when he killed people. I can't take part in any celebration after what I did yesterday."

Hermione nodded quietly.

"Now I can't go anywhere, even less than before. Before it was just something I had survived over a decade earlier, now it's something I've done yesterday."

Harry pushed his bacon and scrambled eggs around his plate.

"All this fighting and what for? Now I can't show myself in public even that much that I could before."

Hermione was looking at the table. Maybe this was the opening she had hoped for. Of course she knew that Harry would do anything she asked for, but now this could perhaps be beneficial to Harry too.

"I've been thinking", she said slowly, fidgeting with her fork, "now that the war is over, I think I'll go see my parents in Australia, and see if they want to come back. I haven't seen them for four years, you know, and I was thinking if... I mean, would you..."

"Of course I'll come with you. You've been with me all this time, You helped me to win this war, the least I could do is to come with you to look for your parents. It's not like I have anything I want to do back here."

"Oh thank you Harry! Thank you..." cried Hermione, hugging Harry tightly.

-o-

Magic is a wonderful thing when you need to travel. Harry and Hermione were out of the country before any well-wishers managed to find their safe house, and the combination of magical and muggle transportation methods made it practically impossible for anyone to track their way to down under. Conjured passports and visas were used while crossing borders as muggles, apparition and portkeys whisked them from city to another without delay.

When Harry and Hermione arrived to Brisbane where Hermiones parents were hiding, it was early morning and sun had just risen over the horizon. Harry and Hermione had spent the previous night in Singapore, which was the final stopping place where they could get by using only domestic apparition and crossing borders by land as muggles. From Singapore they had taken the early morning plane to Darvin, Australia, where they had been able to secure an intercity portkey to Brisbane without raising any questions.

As miles were adding between England and Harry and Hermione, Harry was getting increasingly more relaxed. The evening in Singapore had been a good one, they had eaten a quiet dinner in a small local restaurant, enjoying the South-East Asian cuisine. And the Australian wizards at the portkey station of Darvin hadn't looked twice at the two young people asking for a portkey to Brisbane. The biggest Australian wizarding newspaper had mentioned the end of the British war in their editorial, but the front page was reserved for the latest scandal involving a pair of local celebrities, Quiddich players Ollie and Willie Wright, 'The Flying Brothers'.

Harry and Hermione were enjoying the sunshine over the Brisbane River walking along the waterfront of the Botanic Gardens. Hermione had agreed with her parents on elaborate safety arrangement for contacting them in Australia. According to that agreement they had agreed to meet at a café in the city centre at three, and would arrive there one hour earlier. That meant Harry and Hermione had a few more hours to spend together before meeting with Hermiones parents, Emma and Dan Granger.

"I'm so glad you asked me to come with you, 'Mione", Harry said as they stopped at a small deli to buy some lunch and returned to the park to eat. "If I had stayed in England I'd be alone somewhere trying to hide from all reporters and well-wishers while brooding about how I had nothing to live for. Now I'm here in Australia with you where no one knows me and I can pretend that nothing bad has happened."

"You know that you can't pretend forever, but I'm glad you came, too."

"I know."

-o-

Later that night when Harry was laying in his bed he looked back to the day. Hermione's parents had been thrilled to see their daughter and hear that the war in Britain was finally over. They had drank a few cups of coffee in Brisbane, and then driven about fifty miles South where the Grangers had their house by the beach. It was at that beach where Harry had walked with Dan shortly before sunset where he had finally come to accept some of the things he had been forced to do during the war. He now understood that he had done those things because he had to, and that it didn't make him a bad person that he had killed the enemies. And the fact he felt bad for them was the best possible proof of that.

He had also learned, while he watched Hermione reconnect with her parents, that there had been a reason for his fight, that it hadn't all been just because of some stupid prophecy made by some old woman who had seemed to like her liquor a bit too much. He had fought it also for his friends, their families, and if Emma was right with her suggestive questions and Hermione's reactions to them, perhaps even for himself.

-o-

FIN

A/N: It started as a one-shot about the idea of using time turner repeatedly to create a literal army of one man, but it then begun to grow, and as the beginning had a nice prologue feel to it I decided to divide the story in three chapters. And in the end the Preparations -chapter grew to be the largest one with all kinds of smaller concepts explained (Île de la Sorcière and the Tempus charm with solar time come first to mind), and the actual battle didn't play as large role any more. And then out of somewhere came a tiny bits about the romantic relationship between Harry and Hermione.

All in all I'm relatively happy with how this ended up, and that I was once again able to push the envelope on the length of the story. I have the skeleton of an even longer story brewing in the subconsciousness, something with an independent Harry on his fifth year and how he figures out that there is a prophecy concerning him from hints dropped by Voldemort's visions, Arthur being attacked in the DoM, meeting Neville's parents at St. Mungo's and so on. But we'll see if that will ever amount to anything.

Anyway, thanks for reading, any comments will be appreciated.


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